Face Of The Monster

~1~

 Lillian Marks flew through the port of Dalestown, struggling to avoid tripping over the cobbled road of the market. All around her were the noises of cattle lowing and waves crashing and children shrieking. She smelled salt and sweat and bread baking, the fresh, earthy scent of cow manure permeating the air.

The market was colorful and full of pleasant surprises. There were the little wooden puzzle toys carved by an old man in a rocking chair, the sweet little hay dolls lined up in one vendor's booth, a row of plump braided breads sprinkled with sugar. She carried one of each with her now, her coin purse lighter and her satchel heavier.

She bought the doll for Elizabeth, her young deckhand. The wooden toy was for her flighty but clever powder monkey, James. The bread was for herself and Gabriel to eat when she got back to the ship.

Now, she needed to get what she came here for. Lillian sighed to herself, sorry to have to leave the colorful, lively part of the market. She would now have to navigate the dark, smoky tavern of Spider's Hollow, leaving behind the sun's warmth on the back of her neck and the breeze ruffling her hair.

Here it was, right up ahead. She pressed her lips together, taking one last look around the marketplace. She would look around longer, but she had an appointment. If she was late, he might just leave.

Spider's Hollow had always been one of Lillian's least favorite places. It reminded her of a pig sty, loaded tight with dirty, drunk men and stocked with filmy glasses and inedible food. There were women, too, but mostly prostitutes. Lillian could tell from their tight corsets and exaggerated cleavage.

Of course, there weren't enough of them to go around, so Lillian still endured a few catcalls and pinches and whistles when she fought her way into the tavern. The place was so packed she could barely squeeze through to the bar.

When she reached it, there were no seats. Once again, Lillian sighed to herself. She didn't even know what the man she was looking for looked like. How would she ever find him?

She wrestled her way to the side of the bar where the young bartender was sliding two foaming mugs of beer toward her waiting customers. "Excuse me," she said.

"What?" the girl snapped. She shot a seductive smile and a wink toward a man digging in his satchel for coins to pay for his beer. He grinned back and added an extra silver coin to the stack.

"Do you know where I might find a Lloyd Webster?"

She shrugged. "Maybe for a silver I do."

Lillian growled to herself. Oh, well. What was a bit of silver in the grand scheme of things? She tossed the coin onto the counter and watched the girl slide it into her bra where she seemed to be keeping all her tips. "He's over there," she said, pointing.

"Thank you."

She shoved her way back through the crowd toward Lloyd, the man Gabriel had always bought his maps from. Usually, Gabe would get them himself, but he wasn't feeling up to it that day. Lillian had insisted that it was fine, she would do it. He needed to recover.

Lloyd was a tall, hawkish man with a nose that dominated his face. He had skin like ebony wood and a shiny, bald head. He was drinking from a glass of murky liquid, surrounded by similarly sculpted men who were laughing too hard at everything the others said. They were clearly drunk. When Lillian reached him, she had to stand on her toes in order to tap his shoulder.

All in all, the transaction went quickly and without incident. She managed to pay him three gold pieces and three bronze because he was too drunk to notice. Lillian took the maps, tucking them carefully into her satchel, and said thank you. Then she turned to leave.

"Aw, don't go so soon," Lloyd complained. She tried to ignore him, but he grabbed her by the wrist. "Stay. Entertain us."

She turned around, glaring at him. "Let go of me."

"They're cute when they resist," he said. His friends guffawed behind him as he tugged her closer, putting an arm around her waist.

Without thinking about it, Lillian whipped her gun out of her boot and slammed the barrel into Lloyd's chest. "There's nothing cute about getting shot in the face," she growled.

He let go. "Whoa, whoa. I don't want no trouble. You just get outta here, missy."

Lillian tucked her gun back into her boot, hoping he couldn't see how hard her hands were shaking. She shot one last glare in his direction before wrestling her way back toward the door. She wanted to get out of there as fast as she could.

She shoved her way out the door, breathing a sigh of relief. Here was the market again, the colorful, uncorrupted world she had belonged to only minutes before. She leaned against the wall of Spider's Hollow, pulling her shawl closer around her shoulders. Her hands were still shaking as were her legs. Thank goodness she had taken her gun along. She had almost left it on the ship.

"Miss!"

Lillian glanced up. She didn't see anyone.

"Miss?"

The voice was closer, now. Right beside her if she wasn't wrong. She glanced to her left and, seeing no one there, peeked around the corner of the tavern.

There in the shadows stood an old man, clutching the wall to support himself. He had a bandanna tied around his eyes and a small smile on his lips. "Miss?" he repeated.

Lillian frowned at him. How had he known she was there. "Um . . . yes?"

"Oh, good, it is you." He hobbled toward her, his legs bent and his back hunched with age.

Lillian took a step backward, still feeling antsy from her run-in with Lloyd. She knew he was an old, blind man, completely harmless, yet she felt incredibly anxious about being around him. "What do you need, sir?" she asked.

"Oh, I am in need of nothing," he said. He shoved his hand into his pocket, fumbling until he found what he was looking for. "It is what you need that should be of concern."

"What do you mean?"

In the man's leathery, veiny hand was a single coin unlike any Lillian had ever seen, It was bronze, embellished by an elaborate border of curls like smoke. In the center scowled a golden skull, its forehead rubbed to a silver by years of human fingers touching it. "Take this, child," said the man.

"No, no, I couldn't," Lillian insisted. How could she take money from a poor old man?

He grabbed her hand, pressing the coin into her palm. "Go, now," he said, "And seek your fortune."

"No, please, take this back--"

"You keep it, Miss. You need the help more than I do."